


Just us

by Fics4you



Series: Fics Advent Calendar 2017 [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/M, Fics advent calendar, Zombie AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-09 18:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12894561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fics4you/pseuds/Fics4you
Summary: Having to traverse the desolate, zombie infested wasteland is a lot less terrifying with Michael by your side.





	1. Breather

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the first installment of my fics advent calendar. I hope you enjoy my exploration of different styles and different reader pairings. Please, feel free to share your thoughts with me. A new fic will be posted every day! (twice today, cus I forgot to put this here yesterday, my bad.)

“Don’t you want to stay here forever?”

You turn your head, greeting Michael’s thoughtful expression littered with freckles and stars. In the moonlight his eyes shift like caramel, thick and sweet.

“On an abandoned building’s roof?”

You want to slap him. Playfully, of course. But you can’t bring yourself to disrupt the peace. Instead you return to the sky, flat on your back with your legs hooked over the lip and dangling in nothing. Beneath you the concrete is cool, chilling your shoulders as the night nips your nose and pinches your cheeks. A pebble turns over and over again between your fingers, dizzy.

“On top of the world, ” you whisper to the tears in the darkness, swirls of cloud and colour accepting your words like a gift. “Up here we’re safe. No more walkers, no more people.”

“Just us.” He smiles as our hands touch, his fingers replacing the stone now long forgotten.

“Just us,” you mirror, wishing you could cling to the moment for just that tiny bit longer. But the more time you spend on the roof, the louder the rasping gurgles get; soft smacks of bodies thudding against the lower walls in time with your heart.

“Do you think there’s any hope for humanity?”

You can feel Michael shrug, catching his face squish in the corner of your eye. “Nah, we’re all gonna die horribly in this eat or be eaten world. But hey,” he turns on his side, resting on an elbow with his head in his hand. “It’s not as horrible with you.”


	2. Time to Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the zombies grow closer with the promise of being torn limb from limb, You and Michael realise that it’s time to go.

The rattling of lungs and slapping slip of flesh continues to increase, thumping turning into warning bangs. Dragging your eyes away from Michael and the gentle smile adorning his lips, you sit with a groan.

"We can't stay here."

He stands, peering over the build’s edge with a dramatic frown. "Good collection out the front."

"Nothing around back, we should be good to use the emergency exit," you reply, having stood and scoped out your options. Slinging on your gear, Michael does the same; fastening his axe into place against his side.

"Stairs clear?"

You nod curtly, creaking open the door and glaring into the darkness. A quick click has the light buckled to your shoulder illuminating the void. Nothing greets you but incessant, faint scratching. "Good for the first few floors, there's a screamer further down. I can hear her mumbling."

"Just one?" Michael smiles and joins you by the exit, "we can take her."

You pull out your blade with a similar grin, taking the first step into the building, floor creaking uneasily. "Fuck yeah we can."

Michael follows close behind, his flashlight casting beams of dusted light over the peeling wallpaper and cracked corners. Each step sends shivers through the building, bodies banging like drums against the exterior walls. The smell of rancid flesh does nothing to your stomach anymore, despite the space being uncomfortably warm and ripe.

A visceral smear across the next flight’s banister stops you, fingers leaving a trail of hopelessness. "It’s fresh."

"Means the bitch will be busy," Michael responds in a hush as he fiddles with the axe, now clasping it firmly. "C'mon, we can slip by."

You descend; smell growing stronger with the sound of wet munching, the tearing of sinew as tight and the tension playing your nerves. At the top of the next flight she comes into view, hunched over the carcass of the poor, unfortunate soul caught in her path - and she was directly in yours.

"No way were slipping by," you murmur, hand stopping Michael's movements and fingers holding him back. "We’re gonna have to get close before she calls the others."

"Nah, we can get her from here." He's confident in the face of your disbelief, an eyebrow rising in the darkness.

"You couldn't hit a walker if it ran face first into the barrel of your gun."

"Yeah? Well watch this, asshole." Michael snatches his axe, sending it sailing through the air and into the wall inches above the screamer’s head.

You look at him as she turns and gurgles, abandoning her meal in favour of something fresher, Michael’s cocky expression falling in surprise. "You didn't get her."

" _You didn't get her_ ," he mocks in a high pitched, girlish voice as the walker tears open her mouth to scream.

You roll your eyes, hurling you blade at her before she had a chance to wail and alert the others. The blade skewers the back of her throat to the wall, severing the nerves.

"Oh, "says Michael, storming quickly down the stairs and retrieving his axe, yanking you blade free and handing it back when you join him. “You got her."

"No shit."

Michael pulls a disgusted face, kicking away the body and freeing up the stairwell. "Someone’s had a bad day."

"You don’t know the half of it," comes a man’s relieved squeak from behind the door now accessible without the screamer. The two of you draw your weapons ready to strike until wide eyed, large nosed blonde steps into view, a thankful hand tousling his already mused hair. "This poor sod’s had it worse though, I reckon."


	3. Safe House, Tree House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escape leads to introductions, tree houses, and a rather irritated Geoff and Michael.

Your hand stops Michael before he brings the axe down on the man, giving the pair a reproachful look as the building shudders. More walkers have congregated, of that you're sure. Time is running out, the build up of bodies soon to create an inescapable wall.

“Leave him, Michael.”

You lead him by the axe, taking the stairs quickly with him in tow. He throws you a bewildered look, the other man following with a squeak. “Don't leave me!”

Michael yanks back his weapon, glaring at the clumsy stranger as he keeps pace. “Oh, so you do want me to murder you?”

"We don't have time.” You reach the back exit on the ground floor, ear pressing to the wood and grimace to your lips. “We'll sort it out later.”

“But Y/N-”

“Shut up.” Your shoulder charges the door, barrelling into the open – and equally stale –  air. You spare the men no attention, readjusting your weapon hold.

Before you can bolt the way you and Michael had ventured to this place, a hand stops you.

Michael raises his eyebrows as your face shifts into a warning glare. “I wouldn't do that; she'll rip your arm off and beat you with it.”

The Brit doesn't flinch, instead pointing to the distant tree line in the opposite direction. “This way, they've already taken over that path. You won’t get through.”

You're silent, considering through Michael's outburst. “You’re not seriously gonna listen to this asshole, are you?!”

His volume draws eyes, shambling bodies and rotten flesh lurching forward. From the path the man was warning crawl walkers, swelling with numbers. Michael rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand and the strangers arm as he sprints towards the trees. “Fuck.”

You pull free, raising your blade and chopping your way through the stray limbs blocking your path, Michael doing his best impression of a crazed animal as he tears through the growing crowd. The Brit doesn’t know what to do with his hands, patting his pockets and tossing you a frantic look before fumbling with the softball bat you hurl back.

“C'mon, hurry up!” demands Michael, your blade slicing up through a collection of skulls, the stranger smashing through the remaining.

“What the fuck do you think I'm trying to do?!” you spit back, taking off and catching up with ease, the three of you so close to the tree line that pine fills your lungs.

“Once we break through there’s an old tree house off to the right,” pants the man, his long legs looking incredibly ungraceful as he overtakes and disappears into the trees.

Michael looks at you, panting. “Do you really wanna trust this guy?”

Taking in the dead you're leaving behind, you grimace as trunks become obstacles you easily work through. “It’s all we've got. We can always take the tree house.”

And then the man's waving, meters away and jabbing a thumb up to the clustered structure stabilised up high. He bends into a crouch, accepting your foot and boosting you up.

With a grunt you haul across the wooden floor, splinters catching your stomach as Michael barrels up behind you. You don’t listen to his protests as you lean back over the lip, offering your hand to the man and helping him up.

Panting and with hearts racing, you and Michael collapse against the wall as walkers enter the forest, stumbling below and moving on.

The man doesn’t relax, instead disappearing into one of the many smaller rooms branching off from the main, returning with arms filled with snacks and bottled water.

Accepting a drink, Michael grimaces as you snatch it from him, his caramel eyes assessing the now beaming Brit. “You’re making me feel bad about my plan to kick you this tree house in the middle of the night, asshole.”

“Gavin.”

“What kinda stupid names that?”

He smiles wider, something you thought impossible. “It’s my stupid name, and welcome to my stupid home...base...thing. Well, it’s not mine. Jack made it, but Geoff takes credit.’

The voice from the doorway makes you jump, Michael and yourself lunging to your feet with weapons drawn. The tattooed man doesn’t loom at either of you, glaring at Gavin in annoyance. “What did I tell you about bringing home strays?”

“They saved my life, Geoff.”

“Where’s Mason?”

“He didn’t make it. Screamer got him.”

“... Well shit, good thing no one liked him anyway. C'mon then, better get something better than water in you. The coffee's crap, but we've got herbal tea. And leave your weapons by the door; you’ll have someone’s eye out with that thing.”


End file.
